Almost Everything
by honestgrins
Summary: They could have had it all, had they been given a chance. (drabble series for Klaroline AU Week 2019)
1. Fighting Fate

_**Klaus had heard the warnings, read the legends, and sought them out anyway. Caroline, though, doesn't care what the Fates say; as far as she's concerned, he made his own bed.**_

* * *

They stared down at him, their blank expressions unnerving. Near a thousand years he'd been searching for these wizened crones, and Klaus still managed to be surprised at the sheer power radiating from ones even more ancient than he. Summoning the Fates had been something of a folly for him over the centuries; prophecy was nothing more than a tool to manipulate vulnerable populations needing to believe, much as he'd done in spinning the sun and moon curse.

But once he'd come across just the right coven of witches, the spell was too tempting to pass up. To know one's future? To have the endgame surely in mind, soon to hold it in his grasp? With both his curse broken and his father dead, Klaus had thought New Orleans to be his new conquest. The city, however, had proven to be less diverting than originally promised. Instead, he'd taken to traveling the world, openly exploring places where he'd once only hid.

It was in Athens, of course, when he happened upon the temple where a particularly helpful witch shared all she knew about the Fates her coven had served for generations. Within weeks, he'd seduced his way into their embrace and found himself in the center of a ritual. Candles burned away, his chest streaked with blood as the witches chanting around him suddenly disappeared, leaving him in the temple bathed only in moonlight. He heard them before he saw them, the utter silence in which they existed louder than any pitiful, human heartbeat.

"The Hybrid," they said as one, their voices an odd harmony that grated his ears. "We have watched you for a long while."

He grinned, his fangs dropping with pride. "So you've heard of me."

The tallest one pinned him with a cruel glare. "Invoking power such as ours is foolish for an immortal. To live so long, surely prophecy will only strangle you."

"So harsh," the largest one chided, her smile kindly maternal. It sent a shiver down his spine, though Klaus would never show it. Even a predator knew when he was being hunted. "He went to some trouble to see us, the least we can do is fulfill his quest."

_Be careful what you wish for_, Rebekah had spat when he'd told her about finding the temple. _You just might get it_. He knew she feared another vendetta, another excuse to cling to their family tightly while he began yet another war for power.

He couldn't explain it, the burning need to know what comes next.

"Be sure, child," the oldest one croaked, not looking away from her knitting needles. "Once you know, you must grapple with the certainty of your fate, still knowing you cannot fight it."

Blood boiling, Klaus fought back a primal snarl at their condescension. With a sharp smirk, he nodded. "Tell me. What is my fate?"

* * *

She felt warm. Blinking her eyes open, Caroline took in the early morning sun streaming into the fancy hotel suite. The silk pillow was soft against her cheek, but nothing felt as good as the hand coasting along her bare hip. "Good morning, creeper."

"Creeper?" Klaus dropped slow kisses to her neck, his scruff leaving delightful tingles on her skin.

Turning onto her back, she let a hand card through his hair to hold him close. "Don't pretend like you weren't watching me sleep. I will take it as a win that you're too exhausted to bring out that sketchbook you always seem to have handy in my bed."

He smirked into her lips as he urged her into a deep kiss. "You do make a fantastic muse, love. Especially like this, soft and languid in your repose." Brushing his nose down her neck, he landed on her collarbone and the spray of freckles usually hidden from him. "It's been too long," he mourned quietly.

"We barely made it five years this time," she reminded, voice gentle as her hand resumed scratching through his curls. "And you still haven't told me why you crashed my gala."

It was a triumph, if she said so herself. Her most high-profile event to date, everything went flawlessly - including the Original Hybrid sweeping her off her feet at the end of the night, dressed in a tux tailored so perfectly she almost felt bad tearing it off him.

Almost.

But she knew Klaus, and he rarely made an appearance unless something was wrong. Thirty years as a vampire, and he'd somehow become the constant she would carry throughout eternity. Decades could pass, and their eyes would still meet across a room like they were back in Mystic Falls. They were strangers yet kindred spirits, and the fun was in the tug of wills between them. If he wasn't being overtly megalomanic and even dared to charm her, it wasn't hard to fall into bed with him. She actually kind of loved their dynamic once they were away from the supernatural drama and the more rigid human ideals she'd tried so hard to abide by.

With him, Caroline could just _be_. For the girl who always tried too hard, Klaus was something of a relief.

Except when there was a game being played, then he was a chore. As his hand trailed down to her breast with his predator's gaze heavy on her face, she knew all too well a game was afoot. She tugged on his hair, making him sit up with her. "What's going on?"

"I don't know what you-"

"_Klaus_."

Sighing, he pulled her into his lap and smiled softly when she allowed it. "You're too clever for your own good, sweetheart."

"I know," she shrugged. He was always good for an ego boost, and she felt particularly aglow after that fourth round. "Now, tell me."

He brushed her loose hair back from her face, his own expression troubled. "Do you believe in fate, Caroline?"

Taken by surprise, her mouth drops open in thought. "I...don't know. It certainly feels like someone out there is waiting to drop bad news every time something good happens, but usually, it's just you or the Salvatores dropping some fresh hell on my doorstep." She bit her lip. "But do I think there's some larger plan I'm destined to fulfill? God, I hope not. I'd hate to let all my therapists' work to lessen my type-A anxiety planning go to waste because I was meant to be the first vampire to die by panic attack."

With a dark chuckle, Klaus rubbed her back comfortingly. "I've met them," he murmured. "The Fates. I asked them for mine, and..."

Hands shaking, she cupped his face, scared at the sudden steel in his eyes. "Is this why you came to me? Because of whatever prophecy they gave you?"

"I need you to come with me, sweetheart. This fate," he paused, anger and fear and determination thickening the air between them. "It cannot come to pass, but it will if you stay here."

Caroline backed away, not thrilled when he clenched his hands around her wrists. "Klaus, this is not what we agreed to. I'm free, remember? You honored my wish to live as I chose, with the _occasional_ visit and _absolutely_ no commandeering."

Pain crushed his whole face, and she felt helpless at what he must have heard. "This _is_ me honoring your wish to live," he promised - just before he snapped her neck, and everything went black.

* * *

_You will lose that which you hold most dear, over and over and over again. Nothing lasts forever but you._

* * *

When she awoke for the second time, any warmth she felt was pure rage boiling her from the inside out. The bed was just as soft as the hotel's, but she recognized the scent and peculiar movements of the private jet they were actually on. Oh, she was regretting that trip to Paris now, if only to allow herself to pretend that Klaus hadn't freaking kidnapped her.

But he did.

Caroline didn't know how she'd make _him_ be the one regretting things, not yet. However, she thought she had a strong start with 'getting the hell away from him.' It would take a call to Bonnie, maybe getting Kol or Rebekah to run interference for her, then a whole lot of luck to skirt past his many spies all over the world.

And maybe she wouldn't punish him forever, but that was a problem for her future self. Her present self wasn't all too keen on cutting him slack anytime soon. Still, she forced herself to hide the true depth of her anger when he somewhat abashedly handed her a blood bag. Petulant and hurt, he would buy. He probably even expected an escape attempt or two.

She could be patient, and she would wait for the opportunity that might work. Whatever fate Klaus feared, Caroline had no intention to stick around and find out.


	2. Cutthroat

_**She's determined to win, but she's not above teaming up with a rival to knock out a worse one. (Cutthroat Kitchen AU)**_

* * *

"Chef Matt," Alaric intoned solemnly, "you are dismissed. Please relinquish your remaining funds."

As the burly blond handed over the cash he never even had a chance to spend, Caroline bristled with the thrill of competition. Unfortunately for her, Damon and Klaus seemed just as energized, and she highly resented the elbow poked into her side. "Quarterback down," Damon sneered next to her. "Is the cheerleader next? Maybe I'll sabotage you with pom poms next, though I'll be honest, the skirt would be better."

She scowled as he leered down the line of her leg, tired of his needling and the gross stares. But she knew what she'd signed up for when first auditioning for _Cutthroat Kitchen_, and trash talk was the least of her worries. Working with tiny pans and utensils hadn't been easy, but she'd managed a decent frittata in the first round, and she definitely enjoyed watching Klaus grimace at the substitute ingredients he'd been forced to use.

Damon, though, he deserved more than a little hardship for this next round. Glancing over to Klaus, she found him watching her curiously. She arched an eyebrow and nodded to the sleazy chef between them. He smirked, which shouldn't have left her blushing like it did. _It's just a truce_, she reminded herself. _Come the final round, he's toast._

At least, she hoped. Klaus Mikaelson was something of a legend around Chicago, where she'd only just gotten her foot in the door of the industry. While she had full faith in her own abilities, the barbs about her lack of experience and youth weren't exactly unfounded. All she could do was make up for it with enthusiasm and creativity, which the show usually rewarded. But she'd also survived high school and her sorority house, so psychological warfare was second nature to her.

With the dark gleam of satisfaction on Klaus's face as he nodded, she wondered if maybe she shouldn't have conspired with Damon to kick _him_ out first.

Steeling herself, Caroline turned to watch Alaric set up for the next challenge. "Alright, chefs," he greeted with an evil smile. "For this round, you will be expected to make...spaghetti and meatballs! You have sixty seconds to shop for this basic dish. Go."

She rushed forward to beat Damon to the produce, eagerly filling her basket with the best tomatoes, onions, and herbs. Luckily, she was paying attention to Klaus, who'd taken to clearing the pasta shelf into his basket. With a quick pinch of the last box of angel hair, she couldn't help a grin to match his own when she ducked under his arm to grab the crustiest bread she could find.

"Thirty seconds!"

Oil, garlic, ground beef, a few too many spices - she frantically ran through the list in her head, sure that she was missing something important.

"And time. Chefs, please return to your stations." Caroline bit her lip, painfully aware of the eggs she completely forgot. Refusing to let on about her mild panic, she fought to hold a blank expression as the others tried to size up her basket. It was pretty basic for most recipes, and they didn't seem to pick up her hopefully not fatal error. "For the first sabotage, I have for you all a handy little device to hinder your opponents." He held it up, the cuffs and plexiglas shining under the stage lights. "This is the Salad Bar to accompany your Italian classic," he teased.

Alaric could call it what he wanted, but that was _definitely_ a spreader bar she'd seen featured in an...adult catalog. Before she could school her reaction, however, she let out an indelicate snort. Only Klaus seemed to notice, his smirk somehow deepening with a far dirtier glint. _Oh_, she sighed internally, a twinge low in her belly warming her with something other than embarrassment. _Interesting_.

"Two thousand," Klaus called out, not taking his eyes from her.

"Three-five," she countered. Maybe her voice didn't sound as breathy as it felt.

"Ten thousand." Damon gave her the slimiest look, and it took everything in her not to throw away the rest of her cash to make sure he didn't get to put her in some BDSM fantasy of his.

Klaus, who had yet to spend any money, glared him down. "Eleven," he said smoothly. With plenty of money to outbid Damon's draining budget, he all but dared him to bankrupt himself.

"Eleven going once, twice," Alaric watched them all with interest, then smiled. "Sold. Chef Klaus, collect your winnings and crown whomever you'd like." He collected the money and passed over the bar with a gleeful wink. "Choose wisely."

Pretending to consider it, Klaus all but tossed the thing at Damon. "You don't strike me as the type to be comfortable with restraint," he goaded.

Gamely strapping himself in, Damon blew him a kiss. "Easy as pie, big bad, even if it's too bad Barbie Chef didn't get a chance to impress us with her...coordination."

She grit her teeth, waiting to pummel him with the next sabotage. When Alaric brought it forward, though, she nearly jumped for joy.

"Who is going to be the Egghead?" he asked, holding a little headband strapped to an egg cup. "Whoever wears this will have to balance an egg throughout the challenge. If the egg breaks, I'm happy to replace it...for five hundred dollars a plop."

Provided she got to keep her basket, she could more than afford breaking a couple of eggs - right into her meatball recipe. But first, she had to get one of the boys to 'gift' it to her. "Five thousand!"

"Six," Klaus immediately raised, meeting her eyes with a curious glance. He could really mess with her plan if he wanted to, and she felt a wave of relief when Damon shouted out another ten thousand dollar bid. Klaus luckily backed off, and she could finally breathe.

Once Damon was announced the winner, she held back a wicked smile until he placed the gadget on her head. Unsettled, he backed away quickly, suspicious to the extreme. Alaric helpfully balanced an egg in the little cup, reminding her of the $500 penalty for each egg broken - but he never said she couldn't use said broken eggs. Fully justified in her strategy, as soon as the timer started, she made a little bed of ground beef in her mixing bowl and let the first egg fall. "Whoops!"

Alaric shook his head, clearly amused by her obvious scheming. "Come get your replacement, chef."

She rushed over to him with her fine and hurried back to start breaking down her bread into crumbs, needing to toss them into the oven to dry out a bit. Chopping onions and tomatoes quickly, she fills the saucepan before Alaric could bring out another sabotage. The more quickly she can get her elements cooking, the more likely she'd get to keep them - she prayed, anyway.

"How's that egg scramble coming, Blondie?" Damon taunted, though his voice was strained with the effort of mixing meatballs with only one hand bound awkwardly to the other. "It'd be a shame for you to drop another."

"Actually, it's been a big help. Hard to bind a meatball without an egg, and would you believe I forgot to grab them from the pantry?" She winked at his dumbfounded expression, primly brushing back her ponytail. "I was a pageant queen, chef. If I can balance a book on my head for an hour in heels, I can handle an egg just fine."

Klaus laughed at that, though his big hands never stopped their flurry of activity over his station. "A tiara suits you, love, you should have brought it along."

"The only crown won here is whatever cash you still have at the end of the day," Alaric pointed out. "That said, who wants to replace their opponents' stovetop for a camping stove?"

"Eight thousand!" Klaus called, knowing full well he was the only one who could afford such a bid in the second round.

Caroline immediately moved her half formed meatballs to the sauce; her only hope would be to oven bake them both while using the tiny stove to boil water for her pasta. Though she did lose another egg to her hurried actions, it was more than worth the penalty to see Damon struggle moving his pot of water down from the counter. "Careful!" she called. "You don't want to spill and have to start over!"

"Shut up, Barbie!"

"And I always thought the trash talk on this show was so witty," Klaus pouted, whipping some cream into his sauce. "Don't hold back, Damon, really let yourself loose."

Muttering from the floor, Damon did let loose a few curse words Caroline hoped the cameras wouldn't pick up. But she still laughed, happy to see her sauce bubbling softly in the oven.

Klaus feigned a scandalized horror. "Such language."

"If you're looking for the Great British Bake-Off, you're on the wrong side of the pond, friend," she teased.

"Oh," he chuckled. "The baby chef is trying to teach me something, okay."

"Baby?!"

He shrugged, unconcerned by her offended outburst. "Come chop a few hundred onions a day in my kitchen, sweetheart, then maybe you'll earn a gold star or two for your mum's refrigerator."

Eyes narrowed, she only just held back from pointing her knife in a vaguely threatening direction. "Can't, it's too full of awards and news clippings. Like the latest rave review from the Sun-Times. Did you know they named _my_ restaurant as the best dining experience in the city for their editor's list?"

"I did." Caroline watched him in shock as he appeared entirely unbothered. "But I believe _mine_ earned the Michelin star this year." She licked her lips at the smug dimples peeking out from his cheeks; it really was unfair how sexy confidence could be.

"Two minutes!"

All the contestants rushed to plate their dishes, and even Caroline felt a little bad for Damon trying to neaten up the mess of his with one hand throwing off his balance. But then she remembered the egg sitting at the top of her forehead, and focused instead on carefully grating some cheese over her mostly passable pasta. Klaus's, of course, looked like fine cuisine, right down to the twist of his noodles into a birds nest holding three perfectly proportioned meatballs.

To no one's surprise, the guest judge sent Damon home with more than a few critiques for his 'lack of polish.' Alaric called for a fifteen minute break, and Caroline gratefully ran to the craft services table for a bottle of water and some fruit. Klaus followed at a more sedate pace, though he did steal a grape from her plate. "Thanks for teaming up back there," she said. "I'd hate to be stuck with Damon for more terrible nicknames."

"I'm sure you would have survived despite our machinations, love. I am impressed with your little egg game, though."

She blushed. "Well, I'm the one who forgot the stupid eggs in the first place. Let's be honest, you wouldn't let me through the doors of your Michelin restaurant with that kind of preparation."

His smile softened, and she really liked how it looked on his face. "You might be surprised. In fact," he added nonchalantly, "I'm hoping you might stop in when we're back in Chicago. I've only read about the lobster bisque you made for that glowing review, and I'd be honored to offer you the chance to make it in a real kitchen."

"And give up my recipe to the competition? No way," she scoffed, chest warm with pride and more than a little flattered.

Smirking at her resistance, he stole another grape. "Shall we make a wager of it, sweetheart? If I win this dessert round, you make that bisque for me."

Her eyelashes fluttered. "What do I get when I win?"

Klaus just grinned, wide and knowing. "Whatever you want." _Oh_, that shouldn't have sent a wonderful shiver down her spine. "May the best chef win," he challenged.

Caroline shook his proffered hand with her game face on. "Don't worry, she will." After all, the stakes had just gotten a _lot_ more interesting.


	3. Due Diligence

_**Caroline loves her job as Esther Mikaelson's executive assistant, and she is a damn good one. The next generation of Mikaelsons, however, make things more difficult than necessary.**_

* * *

Caroline strode down the sidewalk, easily balancing a tray of coffees as she dodged fellow pedestrians crowding her morning commute. She usually managed to avoid the rush by getting to work by 6:00, but Esther had allowed her a couple hours to see her mother off to the airport. Unfortunately, that left her fighting rush hour. Her focused expression seemed to clear a path for her, however, all the way to her destination. "Good morning, Andrew!"

The doorman greeted her with a wide smile, happy to accept the cappuccino she passed him. "Good morning to you, Miss Forbes. Before you head upstairs, you should know that Mrs. Mikaelson's children are still on the premises."

"Thanks for the heads up," she sighed, wincing. Family breakfasts were an occupational hazard when Caroline had to work from Esther's penthouse, and she would rather not incur the wrath of the younger generation by interrupting. A schedule was a schedule, though, and she wouldn't let Rebekah's sneers or Elijah's condescension change that. "How many?"

Andrew gave a sympathetic nod. "All of them."

Her eyes bugged slightly in surprise, though she tried to smile through it as she made her way to the elevators. She passed the operator a latte. "Hi, Reggie. I hear it's a full house."

"You heard right, Miss, and they're in fine form today," the old man warned. "If you don't mind me saying so."

"Never," she promised, having bought thousands of coffees for the staff over the years for exactly this reason. "Your secrets are safe with me." He tipped his cup to her before keying in the penthouse code, and they settled in for the long ride up. "I don't suppose you heard what has the family so riled?"

Shrugging, Reggie didn't seem too confident. "It was really tense, what with all five of them squeezed in here with me. They were snapping more than usual."

Caroline sighed, wishing she could lift out her own caffeine boost without upsetting the tray. The Mikaelson children were a viper's nest on a _good_ day. There were only two topics that could make it worse: money or positioning within the company. She was a damn good executive assistant, and Mikaelson Industries only ran as smoothly as it did because of what she did for Esther; should the matriarch decide to retire, though, it would take a hell of a raise to keep _her_, too. Putting one of _them_ in charge would only throw the family into chaos, and she had no desire to watch that happen - let alone to be at their competing beck and call.

Like a death knell for her sanity, the elevator bell rang upon reaching the top floor. "Wish me luck," she joked as Reggie waved her off. Slipping off to the kitchen, she set down the remaining coffees and her tote on the counter, digging out the heels she'd planned to wear for the day.

"Oh, Caroline," a familiar voice clucked from the other doorway, "those tennies do _not_ go with that outfit."

With as polite a smile as she could manage, Caroline quickly swapped out her sneakers and tucked them back into her bag. "Hello, Rebekah. Some of us take the subway on occasion, and even all of my pageant training wouldn't be enough to make that bearable in pumps." As soon as her hands were free, she grabbed her iced triple espresso and took a very unladylike gulp. "I assume breakfast is still going on, so I'll just sneak back to the office."

Mrs. Pearson, the housekeeper, entered the kitchen bearing a stack of dishes. Caroline lifted the last cup toward her and smiled, tossing the tray in the recycling bin. But before she could make her escape, Rebekah laced her arm through Caroline's, putting the other girl on instant alert. "Nonsense, you should join us. Nik has finally graced us with his presence, and I know he'd be thrilled to see you."

She really didn't need the perfectly manicured nails pressed into her arm to remind her just how dangerous Rebekah Mikaelson could be - and yet.

They all but marched down to the formal dining room, Rebekah maneuvering her to enter first. "Look who finally decided to show up," she announced cheerily. "Remind me, Caroline, what do we pay you for?"

Biting back every retort she'd ever rehearsed to her bathroom mirror, she gave a friendly grin. The plastic of her cup bowed under her clenched grip, but her face was pleasant enough. "Good morning, everyone. Just wanted to say hello before catching up on the office."

Esther sipped her tea, seemingly unbothered by the interruption. "Caroline, I trust your mother is safely delivered to the airport."

"Yes, thank you." She had to fight back a strange urge to curtsey, despite years of being used to the courtly accent and rigid manners. Mindful of the other, less trustworthy ears trained on her to hunt for personal weakness, she figured it safest to focus on work. "I've been monitoring your correspondence on the way over here, everything seems to be progressing as normal."

Taking her seat next to a sprawled out Kol, Rebekah leaned forward like she had a juicy secret to share. "Caroline takes the _subway_, you know."

"Many people do," Elijah pointed out from behind his open newspaper. "It's hardly our business how Miss Forbes travels to work, especially during peak hours." She almost felt vindicated from the usually cold chief financial officer, only for him to pointedly check his watch. "I suppose she's to be commended in making good time despite the late hour."

"Indeed." Finn stirred his tea with a grating scrape of the spoon, and Caroline could feel the individual muscles of her jaw clench at the sound.

Kol, meanwhile, appeared utterly pleased at the awkward moment. "A clever rejoinder as always, brother," he teased before turning toward her. "You look lovely as always, darling. Doesn't she look lovely, Nik?"

The air might have been sucked from the room with how she could only hear the blood rushing in her ears. She nodded toward the last pair of curious eyes, forcing a quick smile. "Klaus, what a nice surprise. Welcome home." His attention burned along her skin as she glanced away, nodding to Esther. "I'll be in the office when you're ready. The new publishing acquisition is on standby for streamlining operations, and Alaric has asked for a half hour to go over broad legal strategy against the Lockwood startup."

Finn frowned in that stony way of his. "Why am I not in for that, Mother?"

"Because Alaric is better on the offensive, dear," Esther replied. "Thank you, Caroline, pencil Alaric in after lunch with Richard Lockwood. We should have a better grasp of his company's intentions once I actually meet the man."

"Done." With a final nod, Caroline did her best to escape without hurrying, but she knew it couldn't be that simple. Just as she stepped into the office, a warm hand grasped her elbow. "Klaus-"

"You're not happy to see me."

Her eyes closed at the uncertain flirt in his voice, a small smile turning her lips anyway at the memories it conjured. "I'm...surprised. I thought your grand hotelier plans were going to keep you in Europe for the year."

Klaus tugged lightly on the end of her ponytail, smirking at the way her whole face opened up in affront. "Surely, someone so _intimately_ familiar with the Mikaelson brand knows I can afford a plane ticket or two," he joked. "You've been ignoring my calls. I find I don't like that."

Pushing on with her usual routine of a work day, Caroline busied her hands with computers and folders. Still, she felt him watching and couldn't make herself ignore it; the blush was warm on her cheeks. "It was a one-time thing, Klaus. We agreed."

"You said it, I didn't argue. I figured you would allow me the opportunity to properly woo you," he tempted, sitting in the chair across from her desk even as she fled to Esther's inner office. His volume just increased so she could hear him. "Hence the phone calls, sweetheart."

Caroline leaned over the antique desk, hands planted firmly on the agenda she'd been laying out. Relieved he hadn't followed her in, she took a deep breath, at a loss for how she ended up having a mind-blowing, one-night stand with her boss's son. Worse, she wasn't all that sure she wanted it to stay at one night, either. "You don't want to date me, Klaus."

His laugh was warm and immediate. "Funny, I think that's exactly what I want to do. In fact, I have a reservation tonight at your favorite sushi restaurant for just that purpose."

"My favorite sushi place?"

"Mrs. Pearson is an exceptional hostess, love, and she's always had a bit of a soft spot for me. She was a font of information on your takeaway selections."

She scowled, knowing full well he couldn't see her. "Well, that's just cheating."

"Perhaps, but I have no regrets."

With a scoff, she stepped back out into her space and found him looking at the framed photos littering her desk. "Seriously," she said, snatching one of her dad with a baby Caroline from his hands, "I work sixteen hours a day more often than not, I know _everything_ about your mom, and even I'm not that good at compartmentalizing to handle dating her son. You don't want to date me."

Frowning, his hands steepled under his chin. "Because my mother would complicate things?"

"Because you get some thrill out of seducing your mother's executive assistant," she sadly accused. "Congrats, you did it, and we had a great time. Why can't you leave it at that?"

Any levity in his expression drained in a second as he considered her words. "Why are you so adamant we have to leave it at that?"

Caroline blinked, taken off guard at his plaintive tone. "I- How would you see this going? I feed Esther small talk hints at galas with you trailing after us? You fly me out to France or Japan for the weekend, only for me to take the fanciest walk of shame from the airport to her office?"

"You'd be ashamed to date me," he realized, his jaw tense.

Something bristled along her spine like a warning, and it scared her. "Well, no, but-"

His eyebrows rose, the smug playboy who'd seduced her over late night market reports and art history replaced by an earnest, lonely man. "I like you, Caroline," he said, his voice painfully honest. "And I'd like to see more of you, on your terms. You're right, it might take work to finesse the details. I'm willing to put in that work...if you are."

She licked her lips, her fingers fidgeting over her daily planner. "I, well," she sighed, suddenly winded. "This is real?"

And his smug smirk returned as he reached for her shaky hands, covering them with his own. "Sushi, eight-thirty." When she opened her mouth to protest, his smirk widened until she saw dimples. "Mother promised Rebekah over breakfast to finish work early tonight, something about an emergency spa appointment. I doubt she'll keep you past seven."

A part of her wanted to make her own emergency spa appointment for a surprise first date, but she did appreciate the consideration for her schedule. "Still doesn't leave me much time to spruce up," she said, fighting a smile at how his whole face brightened for what sounded like a 'yes.' "Don't you want me to look pretty?"

Like he couldn't hold himself back anymore, Klaus stood from his seat and leaned down to press a kiss to her cheek. "You're beautiful, love. I'll see you tonight."

As he turned to leave, her stomach gave a giddy leap. She didn't want that feeling to end. "Did you really find out my favorite place from Mrs. Pearson?"

Esther and Finn's voices floated in from the hallway, and he kept his own low. "I suppose we'll find out, won't we?" With a final wink, he strode out of the office, leaving her a puddle of anticipation despite needing to work a twice-shortened day for his mother.

"Of course he did," she muttered to herself, not quite able to be angry about it. Maybe testing the boundaries of their relationship would be more fun than she had feared. She really couldn't wait to find out.


	4. The Worst

_**Caroline's always looked forward to finding her soulmate, only to find him while dying on her birthday. He's just...the worst.**_

* * *

"Hello, Earth to Caroline!" A pretzel landed on her textbook, shaking her from her zoned-out stare. She found Bonnie watching her with concern. "Are you okay? You've been acting weird since your birthday. Brooding, almost."

Bristling, Caroline couldn't help the wave of alarm rolling down her spine at the mention of her disastrous 'funeral'-turned-near death experience. "Um, I think I'm still processing the whole thing," she shrugged. "Post-traumatic stress or something."

With a cant of her head, Bonnie didn't seem convinced. But she just reached across the table to squeeze her hand. "Tyler's a dick for biting you and running away. Maybe he and Jeremy can go off on an adventure together," she joked with a sad smile.

Caroline was grateful for the easy excuse and almost let herself play along. Holding back the truth wasn't exactly helping, though, and she probably needed to talk to someone. A witch who could help her brainstorm magical solutions certainly seemed as good an option as any, especially when it was her best friend. "It's not that. I've got this...problem, and I don't know what to do about it."

"What kind of problem?"

The kind felt like lead in her stomach, she wanted to say, dread scratching at her nerves until she shoved a handful of pretzels into her mouth. Eating her feelings was a lot easier than facing the biggest disappointment of her human life, no matter how short it was or the fact that it was officially over. She forced herself to swallow, but couldn't manage to meet Bonnie's eyes. "I think I found my mate."

Bonnie blinked at her, clearly not expecting _that_. Worse, she didn't seem to know how to react. "You don't look happy," she finally said, which explained her hesitance. "You've been dreaming about your soulmate for forever, and you look..." She trailed off, pity thick in her voice.

"Scared," she finished hoarsely. "I'm scared, Bonnie."

Their hands grasped for each other over their forgotten textbooks, high school midterms suddenly less pertinent than whatever hell had just descended on Mystic Falls. "Tell me."

Biting her lip, she was terrified of what saying it out loud might mean. Bonnie could hate her for it, Damon would probably kill her as soon as he heard. But pretending it wasn't real, keeping this secret might kill her all the same. Eyes wide and pleading, she silently begged her friend to love her anyway.

As it turned out, she didn't even need to say it because Bonnie could read the pain and fear in her face. There weren't that many new people floating around town, and only one could inspire such a visceral horror.

_Klaus_.

She used to dream about her soulmate. All kids did, to a point, but it became something of a project for in elementary school. What they would look like, how their hugs must have felt, no detail was too silly for a young Caroline to consider as she methodically listed traits that made her perfect match. They'd listen to her - really listen - and care what she had to say. She'd love cooking them dinner and watch lovingly as they did _all_ the dishes, like her parents did.

Her dad found his soulmate just after her twelfth birthday; the divorce happened not much later. While some figured she'd be put off the whole concept, it only reinforced her belief that love was best meant for the other half that existed somewhere in the universe. She may have learned to be slightly more flexible in the possibilities, but she wanted it more than ever. Finding a mate must be an incredible, undeniable experience. Her dad never would have left her behind for anything less than that, right?

Growing up was a lonely time, made more so by her mother's promotion and the empty house that remained. She threw herself into school and clubs and every conceivable opportunity in Mystic Falls to keep herself busy, maybe around people who wanted her around. Bonnie and Elena would always be the nice girls, more popular and generally well-liked in a way her abrasive personality would never allow. But Caroline could be useful. She liked being useful.

That, however, often led to being used. Her soulmate could _never_ use her, she thought. They wouldn't want to, they just wouldn't.

She'd read every self-help book about soulmates, scoured advice columns, and all but interviewed every mated couple she knew. Caroline wanted to know how they _knew_. What made a soulmate, and how could they be recognized? For most, it was the first brush of skin, a handshake or a hug. Others claimed there wasn't one moment, and they couldn't quite remember when they realized a friend was a soulmate - but it was absolute and they never looked back. Some knew on their first date, others after having sex for the first time. Bonnie's Grams said she found hers just by meeting his eyes from across a crowded party; she kind of wanted to chalk it up to the Bennett magic, as romantic as the story was to little Caroline.

Whatever the set-up was, the punchline was always the same for human soulmates: a hole in their chest, one they never noticed or worried about, felt full and warm and _right_. And she'd felt that lying in Klaus's arms, his blood staining her lips. She'd been scared, achy, and livid - she also felt _right _staring up at this beautiful monster, promising her a thousand more birthdays like they were a gift. Like he hadn't just held her life in his hands and gambled with the outcome.

Her soulmate had tried to have her killed. That should have been the horrifying part of the story, her mate being a thousand-year-old wolf-vampire hybrid with the power to compel her, all while he made her friends' lives a living hell. Despite the supposed bond they were meant to share, she had no doubt that he would use her for whatever he wished and toss her away just as easily. But there was more.

"Bonnie," choked out, "I don't think he recognized me as _his_ soulmate."

* * *

Klaus scrawled the note as an afterthought, having originally planned to drop the dress and his mother's invitation on the doorstep with nary a word otherwise. But he had hesitated before ringing the doorbell. She'd looked tired as she arrived home, a little wary - far from the fighting spirit he'd met on her birthday. Plaguing his thoughts since, she would suit the dress well. He wanted her to know it was from him.

So he left his note and flashed away, content to let the matter settle in the back of his mind until the ball that night.

That was his plan, anyway. In truth, he spent an hour or two sketching details of her obstinance. Another hour wasted away with him focused on the curve of her mouth as she fought against sleep, something like awe in her expression. That face had haunted his own dreams, and he couldn't understand why. Baby vampires were a dime a dozen, and he'd killed hundreds - thousands - just like her in his life. She wasn't even the first one he'd saved with his new, uninhibited blood.

Yet, she lingered, and he didn't quite know what to do with that. Caroline Forbes had intrigued him. With the new era of peace his mother supposedly wanted, perhaps he could while away the days seducing the sheriff's daughter into her new life beyond mere mortality.

Klaus found he quite liked the idea.

* * *

She never meant to tell him. The ball had been a disaster, pretty dress or no, and she'd ended up tossing the diamond bracelet at his feet. For someone so adamant he couldn't possibly have a soulmate, he'd worked pretty hard to appeal himself to little, old her.

And he'd seemed so wistful about being a product of his mother's soulmate, how Mikael had hated that love and punished him for it all those years. She thought...maybe... But she wasn't going to tell him. Naming herself as his mate would just sign away her freedom, if he didn't kill her outright. The guy was nuts and always looking for his next power trip, and Caroline refused to just hand it over in the form of her stupid, fated heart.

Curiosity had always been her hallmark, though, and she asked one question too many.

_He seemed sad, even when he was flirting with her. Heart pounding, she kept her arms tightly crossed to keep from reaching for him. It was a stupid impulse, yet it felt so natural to want to lace her fingers through his and give a comforting squeeze. But he was just so aggravating, and she wouldn't let herself feel sorry for him - and she told him exactly what she thought about siring hybrids for his own amusement._

_"You're making assumptions," he said in a soft voice that belied the danger in his expression._

_"And you're lonely," she accused right back. "So you compel yourself minions and cart your family around in boxes, or you try to buy people off." She unlatched the bracelet like it had burned her wrist and let it drop between them. "Life doesn't work like that, Klaus."_

_A smirk clawed up his cheeks as he looked at her like prey. "Life works however I wish it, sweetheart. You're young, likely still hoping to fulfill all those human dreams you've yet to let go. College, a career, maybe even a happy marriage with a soulmate meant just for you."_

_Warning bells sounded in her head, but she forced herself to seem unaffected. "Why not? Being a vampire doesn't have to change that."_

_"Best of luck, sweetheart." His tone dripped with disdain, anger bright in his eyes. "If you don't find them in this lifetime, you'll be spending those birthdays I promised _alone_."_

_"Are you sure about that?"_

_Stupid, stupid, stupid. Caroline wasn't thinking, it just fell out of her mouth, bitter and pained. She could feel him watching her closely, and she needed to leave before she did something worse. "Never mind," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "_ _You don't connect with people because you don't even try to understand them." Though she dearly wanted to sprint all the way home, she kept her pace steady and tried to find peace in the haughty clack of her heels._

But she wouldn't find peace, not with Damon and the rest throwing her to the hybrid as the little, blonde distraction. Once more, she found herself surprised with the effort he put forth. Not surprising at all was how charmed she felt by his attention, and she hated herself for that. He'd been so earnest, though, daring her to get to know him and looking up at her with those big, hope-filled eyes. Whatever game he was playing, he had all the right moves to keep pulling her in when she should have known better. Her ignored instincts were proven right when his whole persona turned on a dime, gripping her by the arms and staring her down with pure rage.

He was the soulmate of her nightmares, and she felt doomed to love him anyway.

* * *

Burning the half of his sketchbook he'd already filled with her likeness felt like an empty gesture, but a necessary outlet for the chaos of emotions she seemed to inspire in him. He ran after her, pulled beyond comprehension to follow her confident stride - passing cars and better judgment be damned. The thrill of victory as Caroline sat with him was familiar and yet new, and he was wary of what it all meant.

His fears, as always, were well-founded considering the attempt on his siblings' lives, and he'd thought to kill her for her part in the scheme. It should have been a simple task, and she would have had no chance at deflecting his attack. She floundered when asked, looking around for someone to save her yet resigned that no one would.

Klaus didn't like that, and he didn't know why. He'd physically recoiled at the terror on her face, instead distracting himself with pursuing the more immediate threat. With the Salvatores momentarily put off, however, Caroline appeared to be a more sinister presence in his life than he anticipated.

If only that didn't make her so damn intriguing, then he could finally be rid of her. A part of him wondered recklessly whether there was more to the young vampire than the sudden infatuation of a hybrid set free of both curse and father. Then he'd quickly discard that line of thinking; it simply wasn't possible.

* * *

They were going to kill him.

Bonnie was the one to tell her about the storage locker, warning her not to do anything rash. With Damon and Alaric gunning for him, though, she only had so much time to debate the pros and cons of letting Klaus die. She was in her car before Bonnie had even hung up, half-formed plans running through her mind as she drove.

Parking behind a large truck in case Damon was still lurking about, Caroline didn't let herself hesitate to find the coffin he had hid her soulmate in, the dramatic ass. Luckily, the building was deserted as far as she could tell, and she flashed to the unit where Klaus was supposedly stowed. Her heart clenched at finding him in chains, only to jolt in surprise at finding his eyes open and watching her. "Hi."

He just blinked, and she could just see the gears turning in his head. "You're...the worst," she sighed, looking down to break the lock. "You are a power-hungry control freak who takes his daddy issues out on everyone who dares to make their own choices," she continued, moving onto the loosened chains. "Compulsion, sire bonds, straight up murder, none of that is good. I'm scared there's no line you won't cross, and I'm scared that it still won't be enough for me to leave."

It looked like a gargantuan effort for his desiccated forehead to crumple in the shadow of a frown. Gritting her teeth, she blew out a long breath. "But I'm more scared to lose my soulmate before he even knows." Caroline bit into her wrist and shoved it against his mouth, daring him to fight her claim when he tasted her blood for the first time.

Eyes wide and alarmed, Klaus dutifully drank until his skin gained back some color and his veins began to recede. When she made to pull away, his hand suddenly circled around her arm and held her still. He retracted his fangs from her skin, but left his tongue to tease the slowly healing cuts and clean any remaining blood.

Shakily, she stepped back and he let her go, though he quickly stood to follow her. "Caroline," he said, voice low with awe.

"Not now." She shook her head, flashing out to the car, confident he wouldn't be far behind. "We have to get going before anyone notices you're gone. _We're_ gone," she corrected.

Klaus slid into the passenger seat, seemingly unable to look away from her with a small grin on his face. "Rome, Paris, or Tokyo, sweetheart?"

Rolling her eyes, she put the car in gear and sped away from the storage center. "Wherever we go will just be ruined if you come back and kill my friends," she pointed out. "I know you weren't really looking for a mate, but I won't be controlled, Klaus. And I won't let you hurt the people I love."

"And you won't let people hurt me." Her mouth fell slack at the implication, and she slid her gaze to find him watching her intently. "Intriguing," he said, almost to himself. "You are certainly more than meets the eye, Caroline Forbes."

"Yeah, well." She gave a helpless grin, completely unsure of anything other than the fact her life would never be the same. "Good luck with that."


	5. Adventurous

_**Bill Forbes can't let his daughter marry a pirate, especially not the worst of his kind.**_

* * *

Caroline stared down at her plate, half-heartedly pushing roast vegetables no sailor would be rationed while at sea. The ship rocked beneath their dining table, but that was hardly what made her queasy. "I thought I was being helpful," she pouted. "You asked me to befriend Rebekah so as to endear our family to Governor Mikaelson. I did that, yet you're sending me away."

"You know I only want what's best for you." Her father sounded tired, and guilt only twisted her stomach further. Bill Forbes had never wanted to drag his family into the business, but it became necessary when Liz died, leaving him to raise their daughter in the midst of building his reputation as a respectable merchant. Since finding success in the Caribbean, however, young Caroline had been exposed to far more of the world than he'd hoped for her. Her safety would always be his priority. "You've kept my house for longer than you deserved, precious. Now, you deserve to keep your own, and I think you'll like the Lockwood boy. His father and I have worked together for years, and you'll be back home in Virginia."

Roughly pushing her chair back, Caroline paced the length of her father's cabin. Of all his ships, _Elizabeth_ proved to be the best for personal travel, especially when bringing her along. Their quarters were generous, allowing her to expend all her angry, nervous energy. "I barely remember Virginia! You're just leaving me there with a stranger, who is to be my _husband_."

Bill squeezed his knife, though he didn't rise from his seat. "We're lucky to find you a decent husband at all, Caroline. You'd be wise to remember that."

All the air rushed from her lungs. She felt wrung out, nothing but shame left clinging to whatever remained of her. The independence granted by her father's business had made her bold, too bold. Sneaking her lover into her bedroom was daring in the first place; allowing him to stay the night had been utter foolishness. The household staff was loyal enough to her not to spoil their secret, thankfully. Rumors of _the_ Klaus Mikaelson falling under her spell, however, managed to reach Bill's ears anyway, the dishonorable nature of his intentions to be assumed as fact - her own intentions and feelings be damned.

With a deep breath, she instead found a rage that had long built within. "I will not keep apologizing for loving him," she finally said, her tone cool and even. "I let you confine me to the house, I let you insist I accompany you on this trip, but it's not enough. You didn't bring me to keep me away from him, you brought me to send me away altogether. Even from you."

Pain filled his expression, and he looked nearly torn. "If I could keep you home, I would," he swore quietly. "Our position on the island has become untenable."

"Because Klaus wants me to be free," Caroline accused.

"Free to embarrass yourself and ruin both families with your...affair."

She shook her head, almost frantic. "Because he loves me! Because he wants to show me the world, because he knows I'll never leave while you need me. Clearly you don't, or else why send me back to Virginia?"

"A _pirate_ feared throughout the sea has staked a claim on my daughter," Bill seethed. "I don't intend to give him the chance to avenge that claim and leave you in the crossfire." When she opened her mouth to argue, however, he raised a quelling hand. "He's a reprobate and vicious man, Caroline. Surely, you understand why I secured you a safe home and a kind marriage far from him."

Despite the pleading words, all she heard was condescension and judgment. "You don't know him. He's spoken to you _once_ and your mind is made up."

"A murderer and a thief dared to ask for your hand over tea in the governor's parlor, as though the whole island wasn't aware of their strained relationship or his own crimes against my colleagues and friends." Leaning forward, Bill pointed at her with his knife. "Whatever you and his sister planned for his redemption, it won't work and I refuse to let him cow me into submission."

A terrible understanding dawned on her. "You think he wants to use me against you," she realized. "A pawn to keep you under his thumb."

"Governor Mikaelson favors me among merchants, your pirate has taken notice. Involving himself in my business and some particular dealings would allow him to destroy his father - politically, financially, and essentially ruin the man."

"Good," Caroline spat, her arms crossed defiantly. Even if she'd liked the governor from their limited interactions - and she didn't - that goodwill was easily cut down by the stories Rebekah had shared and Klaus only alluded to with dark eyes. Had her father managed to include her in his business, she would have made her opinion on the man very clear.

Thankfully, a knock at the door interrupted whatever character reference Bill might have argued, and they both turned to find the _Elizabeth's_ captain in the threshold. Over the years, Caroline had come to consider Enzo a friend, which made him agreeing to bear her to Virginia a betrayal. Well aware of this, he had taken pains to avoid her on the first day of the journey. She glared at him, and he grimaced before facing her father. "Begging your pardon, but a ship approaches. Fast. There are large cannons clearly visible, yet they've made no attack."

"Yet," Bill reaffirmed with a tired, resigned look.

Enzo's gaze flicked back to her, and Caroline felt her heart race with anticipation. "It appears to be _The Rogue_, sir. I don't relish our chances against Klaus Mikaelson, even if we weren't running a skeleton crew."

It had been a rather hasty voyage, with little actual cargo to stow or protect on board. Speed was of the essence, and they'd left port as soon as the sails could be raised and managed. Few would challenge a rig without valuables onboard; apparently Klaus was one of them - though Caroline could argue that Klaus found her person to be _very_ valuable.

Sighing, her father pinched the bridge of his nose. "What would you have me do, Captain?"

"There's a small chance we could outrun them if their current pace slows to meet us and we catch a favorable wind before they do," Enzo offered without any of his usual bravado. "Otherwise, we allow the ship to be boarded and hope for a polite negotiation. At worst, he sinks us all."

"He wouldn't do that." Caroline ran to the door, slipping past her father's grasping hands to storm out to the deck. Her head whipped from side to side, only to find an anxious group of sailors awaiting orders and staring at a break in the horizon. With a tight grip on the railing, she could feel her heart pounding. "He wouldn't do that," she said again, her voice a mere whisper as she tried to convince herself.

Klaus Mikaelson wasn't a good man, she knew that. Every story she heard would be worse than the last, blood trailing behind him at every dock. _The Rogue_ and its crew of brigands were infamous for stealing an empire and enforcing their pirates' code on less honorable - yet somehow more respectable - traders. For all the proper training her father tried to instill in her, Caroline always adored the image of a life at sea. None seemed more romantic than that of a pirate, the raw freedom of it all so tempting.

As she grew up, however, her responsibilities grew as well. Freedom was all well and good, but someone needed to keep the house in order and ensure their family was above reproach. Oddly enough, it was her father's suggestion to create ties and affection with the governor via his daughter that led her to crave freedom once more.

Her nails scraped at the salt-worn wood, the ship in the distance appearing slightly larger with every minute that passed.

"Sure you know what you're getting yourself into, gorgeous?" Enzo had managed to sidle up next to her without her noticing, her focus utterly absorbed by the thought that Klaus was coming for her. "If we don't run, you'll end up on that ship. Maybe for the rest of your life."

A smile lifted her lips. "A girl can dream," she answered wistfully.

One afternoon at the governor's estate, Rebekah had waved off a turn in the garden, claiming the sun was too much for her delicate skin. Caroline, unable to help herself, eagerly enjoyed the chance to explore without a chaperone. She'd pretended to be surprised when she found Klaus lounging beneath a tree, laughing when he pulled her down to enjoy other explorations. They later basked in the warm light, her left hand tucked into his shirt, just over his heart.

"What's it like to sail wherever you want?" she had asked, curious. "How can you even decide where to go with the whole world before you?"

His fingers had brushed over her back, gentle at the loosened ties of her corset. "The whole world is before you, too, sweetheart. All you have to do is decide you want more of it. Then, you take it."

She had chuckled and propped her chin on his chest to meet his eyes. "And if I wanted more of you? These stolen hours are lovely, but few and far between."

"I'm here for the taking," he'd vowed, his grip on her tightening as he reached for another kiss.

Smiling against his lips, Caroline had wanted to believe him - that he could be hers. "I thought you were the pirate."

"There's nothing a pirate loves more than enticing another to join the crew." Another deep kiss had distracted them for a long while. "Once you're on my ship, I'll take you wherever you want."

"And I'll be the captain's mistress?"

He'd smirked, kisses turned sweet. "You'll be the captain, and I your most devoted servant."

And his ship was there, racing on its way to her.

"Caroline," Bill said in that disappointed tone of his, approaching her from behind with arms crossed. "Whatever he's promised you, whatever it is you're hoping for, it will only end in heartbreak and danger. You cannot risk our family like this, not for him."

The sea breeze on her face smelled fresh and wild, and she could almost pretend she were a bird soaring above them all. To be so light and joyous and _free_, everything her father was trying to take away from her. "I can do whatever I want," she grinned. "Klaus helped me to see that."

But her father scoffed. "Of course he did, because he's convinced you that you want whatever _he_ wants. Convenient, isn't it?"

"He asked me to marry him," she pointed out, breathless when she could finally make out shapes on the other ship's deck. People. Him. "Even if it's all a trick, he needn't go to such lengths."

"So he can trap you and our family into furthering his interests, Caroline. I raised you to be smarter than this!"

She pursed her lips. "To me, it seems I'm getting married regardless of the outcome. You lose me _anyway_. Why shouldn't I choose the path that might make me happy?" They stared at each other, both too stubborn to look away first.

Enzo coughed, clearly uncomfortable. "Sir, it's time. What course of action would you prefer?"

Pleading with her eyes, Caroline still refused to beg aloud. She watched as her father took in the serious lines of her face, his own conflicted for the first time since she'd challenged his plan. Two deep breaths, and that conflict gave way to a sad calm. "If she's right, there's no use running if he intends to catch us, however long it takes. Drop anchor, let the pirate prove he can board peacefully. That he means us no harm, outside of stealing my daughter," he muttered to himself.

Caroline gripped his arm as Enzo moved to instruct the crew, and she squeezed when the ship noticeably slowed. "Thank you." He covered her hand with his own, and she pressed a kiss to his cheek. "He's not stealing me."

"No," Bill gravely agreed. "You're going of your own volition, which is much worse."

If he had slapped her, it might have hurt less. She backed away on instinct, only for him to hold her more tightly. "Trusting a pirate is going to get you killed, Caroline. I won't be able to protect you. Not from him."

It wasn't worth spitting the bitter defenses back in his face; he wouldn't be swayed. Her heart broke knowing he would never forgive her for this. She thought they had done things right, she and Klaus. They fell in love, made promises to each other. Klaus had even gone so far as to try and get her father's blessing to marry. How many pirates would do that for a woman they'd already bedded? It had to be real.

It had to be for her father to look at her like she was lost to him. Her eyes burned with tears, but she refused to let them fall. Instead, she looked out to watch _The Rogue_ approach and prayed she wasn't wrong.

* * *

His grip tightened on the rigging with only the speed of the ship to comfort him. _Elizabeth _wasn't much of a conquest on a normal day with smaller than average cargo holds meant for travel supplies and more living room for passengers. She could be quick when she wanted to be, but the main sail had slackened considerably, and Klaus released a pained breath as the gap between them closed.

He'd caught her. If he didn't think Caroline would run away by her own desire should he try, he might never let her out of his sight again. Oh, but that was a fight to be had when she was back in his arms.

The crew had given his tense form a wide berth as they rushed around him, pushing the ship faster than was probably wise. When their captain had called them to action, he was near to growling at them until Marcel swept in to give commands. "Let me worry about the sailing," his first mate had reasoned with him. "You work on how to get your girl back without bloodshed. From what you've told me, the lady isn't likely to forgive harming her family."

Unfortunate paternal affection aside, Bill Forbes had proven to be a surprisingly difficult adversary, one that couldn't be borne for much longer. For her, Klaus was willing to negotiate the boundaries of her father's influence with generous terms; since learning of his plan to dispatch her to a husband in Virginia, however, that spirit of generosity had been greatly tested. A part of him feared he'd kill the man on sight, had given Marcel his pistol and knife as a precaution. The rest of him couldn't climb from the horror of what might have been had Rebekah not alerted him to the plot.

As often as he'd offered his sister a chance to escape Mikael's house, he couldn't help but to be grateful that she'd resisted so far. Otherwise, she wouldn't have overheard their father complaining about losing Bill's input for the month it would take to deliver Caroline to Virginia. Worse, he might not have met Caroline at all.

She'd looked beautiful the day he first saw her, peering through the titles in the library. Embarrassed to have been caught, her cheeks had flushed a pretty pink, clutching the hand that had been gently stroking spines to her chest. But then she frowned upon seeing him, eyes tracking down to his worn clothes and dirty boots. She greeted him warily, excusing her own presence as a guest of Miss Mikaelson.

"They're not my books, far be it from me to forbid you from them," he'd teased, helping himself to his father's rum. "Bekah doesn't usually take to others, I'd hate to scare off a new friend."

Her eyes had narrowed. "You're awfully familiar. One of her brothers?"

He smirked behind his glass, giving her an appreciative glance. "Smart as you are fetching, though I'm quite sure my name isn't welcome in these hallowed halls."

"But your person is," she noted with some humor. "What's your profession, Mr. Mikaelson, if I may be so bold to ask?"

"Bold, indeed." He'd always liked that about her; Caroline was a curious one, a question on the tip of her tongue and just itching to ask. Whenever they were alone, she never bothered with polite rules of conversation, instead following her own train of thought until she knew what she wanted to know. "I'm a sailor by trade, Miss...?"

Staring at him with fascination, she seemed to light up with an expression he knew well. Many of his men wore the same one as they looked out on the open ocean for the first time, or when they noticed some new creature crashing against the bowels of the ship. She held a spirit of adventure in her heart, kindred to his own. "Oh, that must be so exciting. My father runs a merchant's fleet, but I don't get to sail nearly as often as I'd like. Even less now," she added, her smile fading.

Klaus hadn't liked the despondent weight that fell over her, but Rebekah burst in before he could ask about it. "Nik! Father will be home in an hour, but you must stay for tea. Ah, I see you've met Miss Forbes," she rambled on imperiously, leading one of the servants into the room. "We'll need an extra place setting, Marie."

He gave a mocking bow. "I am at your leisure, dear sister." Turning to his new acquaintance, he dipped his head more graciously. "Miss Forbes."

"Caroline," she insisted with a quick dip of a curtsey. Despite the sheen of manners, he could see the wheels turning in her mind, and his grin widened at the moment of realization. Her voice turned faint, but not with fear, he was pleased to note. "You're Niklaus Mikaelson."

Rebekah was quick to correct her, "_Captain_ Niklaus Mikaelson."

"A captain." Caroline had nodded, and he could hear what she really wanted to say. A _pirate_.

"So you've heard of me." His smile turned predatory, showing off his teeth like he was baring fangs. "Fantastic."

But Miss Caroline Forbes wasn't one to be cowed, no matter the many horrors attributed to his ruthless greed. Instead, she asked voraciously about his travels, the places he'd been that she could only dream of. In one breath, she would condemn the violence he'd committed in a nearby port and wonder at the people he'd met there. Her life had become increasingly sheltered as her father's business grew, many of the characters he cavorted with not unfamiliar to Klaus in his own work.

Rebekah had bored of the conversation quite early, choosing instead to design her next dress while they argued the merits of one bounty over another he'd collected. Lively and fierce, Caroline had no qualms in disagreeing with him, sure his opinion of her wouldn't hold much sway in the marriage market she and his sister had dreaded together.

Though he had fun teasing the prospects bandied about for Rebekah's hand, Klaus was confident he could gather the funds necessary to bribe their dear father to hold off any negotiations she wasn't thrilled for. After all, Governor Mikaelson was a proud and ambitious man, and there would always be a better offer down the line.

When the topic was Caroline's intended fate, amusement was the last thing on Klaus's mind. No amount of money would lend him sway with Bill Forbes, a man determined to hate him and everything he represented. Holding his daughter hostage was a card the man was all too thrilled to play if it meant keeping her away from a pirate - even if that pirate would do anything to have her.

Even though, against all odds or reason, he loved her.

His love could have been married across the ocean before he had a chance to say goodbye. A paralyzing rage bled through him at the thought, and it wasn't eased by the fear Caroline was a more willing participant than he assumed. She'd never hid the duty she felt to make a safe match, if only to stop her father worrying after her. With the right husband, her life wouldn't have to change overmuch. An absent father had left her rather independent, marrying another merchant or even a rising Navy man would lend to a similar freedom should he permit.

"And what's to stop me from seducing the mistress of the house while the poor sap is away?" Klaus had teased that first time he'd stolen into her bedroom, eager to tempt her out of her dress. It wasn't love yet, not for him, but it was a desire so strong that even the possibility of being shot upon discovery couldn't force him to behave - not with her hair falling in soft waves down her back or the enticing length of her legs as he slowly lifted her shift.

She scrabbled at his back beneath his shirt, just as eager to taste him and the rebellion he offered. "The mistress herself, I trust," she flirted, though reinforced her point with a dig of nails into his skin. "I wouldn't want to dishonor my husband, after all."

Hesitating ever so slightly, Klaus forced a huff of a laugh before distracting them both with a well-placed hand between her thighs. The thought had haunted him long after he left her sleeping peacefully, that she would be tied to some other man, to whom she'd make promises for the rest of her life. There would come a day when he might slyly glance her way, only to find her watching a husband she called _hers_.

Over time, he realized why that image bothered him so much.

And now that she was his, well and truly _his_, Bill Forbes thought he could tear them apart. But he'd caught them; Klaus could finally see her on the deck, eagerly leaning against the rail. Caroline was always eager, the implicit danger of the ocean beneath being half the fun of it. His heart pounded with how beautiful she looked, her hair flowing loose in the light wind his sails caught, bringing them together.

Impatient and fuming, he climbed up into the rigging and tugged one of the ropes that seemed long enough to breach the distance between ships. A few sailors milled about the _Elizabeth_'s deck, though none seemed to be prepared for a fight. No weapons were drawn, in any case, and Caroline wasn't being held back. She only smiled up at him, relief and love clear in her eyes. "Marcel," he called out.

The men barely looked up from their efforts to prevent a collision, and his first mate shouted back without a thought. "Go!"

A firm grip on the rope and a deep breath was all Klaus needed to let his weight carry him from the _Rogue_, his legs strong as they absorbed the impact onto the other ship, like he had a hundred times before. As a pirate, Klaus had learned to be prepared for the fight - even a peaceful boarding could turn nasty fast. He was lucky, then, that Bill Forbes recognized defeat and didn't try to kill him anyway, because Caroline launching herself into his arms wiped every threat from his mind. Instead, he squeezed her tightly, desperate to believe he would get to keep her. "You're alright, sweetheart," he reassured them both, murmuring it over and over in her ear. "You're safe."

"You came," she cried into his neck. Her arms clenched around him, nails digging into his worn vest. "You came for me."

"Always," he promised. His grip wouldn't slack, and fingers carded through her hair without permission. Still, he lifted his eyes to her father, enraged in his own right. He couldn't hurt the man, not without hurting Caroline as well, and the quarrel seemed moot if the _Elizabeth_ had given up the chase. "I meant what I said," he nodded as he invoked their last meeting in the governor's parlor. The attempt at appearing respectable had only deepened the contempt in Bill's eyes, despite the more than generous offer of a loving marriage for his only child. "She will want for nothing, and all I have and am will be hers. _Is_ hers already."

Pale and shaking with ire, Bill wagged a threatening finger in his face. "The wealth of a pirate is short-lived and wasted on drink and whores," he accused. "You'll bring nothing but pain and suffering on my daughter, a _pirate's_ wife," he all but spat.

Caroline finally lifted her head, but her arms only tightened around his waist as she faced what remained of her family with a stern glare. "A _captain's_ wife," she corrected, nearly snarling. "Whether or not you believe it, I know he loves me."

"Ruin," Bill warned. "He will ruin you. He's already destroyed any prospects that would have kept you on the island."

"I don't need prospects, I have exactly who I need." She tilted her chin up to Klaus, and he swore never allow himself to dim the fire in her expression. He loved her for everything she was, for defending him when his own parents never bothered. For choosing him, time and again. "Marry me, Klaus."

Her eyes flicked to the captain lurking on the edge of their group, a supposed friend of hers she'd mentioned once or twice. Blinking, comprehension dawned upon him. Klaus squared his shoulders, not letting her go for a second. "Captain," he said in his politest tone, the one reserved for pestering Bekah in public or particularly testy parleys. "Might you honor us with your witness?"

"Please, Enzo," Caroline added, her eyes wide with hope.

Wetting his lips, this Enzo slowly looked to Bill. "Sir..."

Caroline suddenly lurched from his arms, but Klaus forced himself to calm as she reached for her father's hands. She was fighting for him. "I understand if you'll never forgive me, and I even understand if you choose to disown me after this. Please," she entreated, "please stand with me while I marry the love of my life."

On his honor as a pirate, whose word was only as good as his actions, Klaus would be a husband she could be proud of - a love worth testing that of her own parent. When her watery eyes met his, his chest filled with a warmth that weighed him down in the best way. He felt grounded despite the rocking of the ship, settled in a way the ocean would never be.

It was how he first knew he loved her. He had put off a number of voyages to woo her, under the guise of paying his sister long neglected visits, only to spend more time with the pretty guest and her sharp tongue. Tumbling into her bed once - then twice - had been good fun, tentatively growing into an unfamiliar affection. The time came when Marcel had a line on new quarry, the crew restless to get back to the sea and fill their pockets again, and he didn't relish leaving Caroline behind as he had so many others.

Rebekah must have warned her, for she had clearly been expecting him when he climbed through her window, pulling him in with tender kisses and gently urging him back to her bed. With the hours dwindling, though, he reluctantly collected his clothes while she watched. "Wait," she'd called, rushing to her desk wearing only a hurriedly fastened dressing gown. Pressing a sealed letter to his chest, she allowed him a soft kiss goodbye. "For when you can't sleep."

He never could the night before sailing, an affliction of overwrought planning and impending adventure that no amount of rum or tea could solve. Frowning in confused amusement, he slipped the paper into his jacket and left her with yet another lingering brush of her lips.

How many other lovers had written him a message upon departure, Klaus couldn't begin to count. Sweet promises of a home for him to return to, wicked plans for when he did. As the moon shone into his quarters that night, curiosity overwhelmed him as to which woman Miss Caroline Forbes would prove to be. Regardless of the contents, he was more than sure he'd loyally return to her all the same.

Then he opened the letter, his smirk falling slack. She'd written nothing, merely touched the paper with her favored scent. He closed his eyes and held it to his nose, breathing deeply enough he could almost imagine her on the ship with him.

And he slept peacefully, resolved to bring her along the next time - perhaps to never let her go again. Once they married, he'd never have to. She would be his.

_His wife_.

"No." Bill's spiteful tone was clear, and Klaus curled his fists at the way her face crumpled in response. Her father, however, felt no such compunction to offer comfort to his only child. "I can't. I won't. I might not be able to stop you, but I refuse to be a party to what I truly believe is the worst mistake you will ever make." Ironically, he'd never seen the family resemblance so well until Bill trained a stern glare upon him.

Caroline rolled back her shoulders and stepped more surely between them, secure with Klaus at her back. "You're wrong, but at least it's my choice," she replied, her voice calm despite the somber note of disappointment.

Shaking his head, Bill tossed his hands in the air as he stalked back toward his cabin. He called out, still angry. "_When_ you regret this, don't ask me to rescue you!" A door slammed shut, leaving them on the deck with a chagrined Enzo.

"He'll come around, gorgeous. He always does," her friend offered, watching Klaus with a wary eye. "Still sure about marrying this one?"

With a low growl, he was relieved to have left his weapons with Marcel. He dropped his lips to Caroline's ear, trying to ignore the stream of tears running silently down her face. "We can head back to port, let Bekah handle arrangements for a more dignified wedding, if you'd like." His enmity with his father limited certain opportunities, but the Mikaelson name and the exotic treasures of a pirate would enable some social dignities. "It's up to you, love. Always."

Finally, she managed a wan smile, growing brighter by the second when she turned her face up to him. "You raced here to save me," she teased quietly. "A wife seems a nice prize for your efforts."

"Caroline."

Her hands lifted to cup his face, determination clear in hers. "I won't regret this. I want you."

"You have me," Klaus vowed. "Forever, I am yours."

"My husband." A weight appeared to lift from her as tears filled her eyes again, this time with a happier sheen. "Good enough, Enzo?"

Clearing his throat, this Captain Enzo barely covered a laugh. "By my authority on this vessel, I declare you married." They were kissing before he even finished, and he didn't bother to stifle his amusement. "All right, carry her off, Mikaelson. I'll get her things tossed over to the _Rogue_ before you graciously leave my ship in peace."

Without looking away from his bride, Klaus nodded. "My first mate will be on hand for you," he said, sweeping Caroline up into his arms. His voice dropped as she nuzzled into his neck. "Ready to board, sweetheart?"

She laughed, a bright noise that hit straight to his heart. "Is that what we're calling it now?"

He took advantage of his hand placement to pinch her ass. "Your smart mouth is going to get us in trouble, I just know it."

"Only the fun kind," she promised. She furrowed her brow at the narrow plank Marcel had managed to fit between the ships, and Klaus felt her hold around his neck tighten. "Klaus."

Shrugging, he kissed her temple. "Where's the adventurous woman I married? Hard to see the world if you're scared of a life on deck."

Caroline winced. "It's the _between_ I'm worried about, Captain."

Not wanting to worry her further, Klaus hurried across with all the confidence he'd earned over years at sea in far more dangerous circumstances. He landed hard on the _Rogue_, though his grip on her didn't waver in the slightest. "Ye of little faith, wife," he joked, enjoying the way she blushed with pride. "And I believe you're the captain now, with I your most devoted servant."

Her expression fell in utter shock, a pure delight shining from her eyes. "Wherever I want to go?" she recalled, wonderstruck.

"As long as I'm with you." One close call at losing her was more than enough for one lifetime. "Where will it be?"

"The captain's quarters," she decided at once, gamely ignoring the hoots and hollers of his - their - crew listening in. "Then...everywhere."

Grinning, Klaus leaned in for a kiss, again earning whistles. "Aye, aye, love."


End file.
